


Happy New Year

by Nightdog_Barks



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Jewish Holidays, Rosh Hashanah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-10
Updated: 2006-09-10
Packaged: 2017-10-18 03:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightdog_Barks/pseuds/Nightdog_Barks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wilson invites House to a small Rosh Hashanah celebration and tells a story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy New Year

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the most canon-connected story I've written in a while, so I thought I should post before events leave me in the dust.

  
**STATUS:** Crossposted to [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/house_wilson/profile)[**house_wilson**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/house_wilson/)  
 **TITLE:** Happy New Year  
 **AUTHOR:** [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/nightdog_writes/profile)[**nightdog_writes**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/nightdog_writes/)  
 **PAIRING:** House/Wilson  
 **RATING:** PG-13  
 **WARNINGS:** Spoilers if you haven't watched "Meaning" (Season 3, Episode 1) yet.  
 **SUMMARY:** Wilson invites House to a small Rosh Hashanah celebration and tells a story.  
 **DISCLAIMER:** Don't own 'em. Never will.  
 **AUTHOR NOTES:** This is probably the most canon-connected story I've written in a while, so I thought I should post before events leave me in the dust.  
A personal side note ... the story Wilson tells is a true one.  
 **BETA: Silverjackal** , who started craving honey cake before this was over.

  


 **Happy New Year**

  
September 22nd, 2006 is a Friday. When House sees the note on his desk, he's surprised.

"6:40 pm. My desk. J."

At precisely 6:43, House is seated in James's office, watching his friend set out two slices of honey cake.

"Looks like the ketamine worked," James observes, rummaging through a drawer for forks.

"Looks that way," House agrees. He doesn't mention the latest twinges, the ghosts of pain in the night. "Why 6:40?"

 _"Shabbas,"_ James says. _Sabbath._ "Candle-lighting time, if I had any candles, which I don't. It's Rosh Hashanah."

House frowns. "Jimmy, are you turning into a Jew?" The question earns him a patented Jimmy-Wilson-rolls-his-eyes look from the younger man.

"House, I don't know if you've noticed before, but I _am_ Jewish."

"Not this way," House grumbles, accepting his dish of honey cake and a plastic fork. "Aren't you supposed to be at your parents' tonight? I thought your brother and his new wife were going to be there."

James doesn't answer, not for a while. "Couldn't make it this year." House studies his friend, but apparently there are no further details.

"Who made the cake?"

"I did. Rest of it's in the oncology lounge."

The cake is delicious, honey-dark with the promise of a sweet new year. The two men eat quietly.

"Almost forgot," James says, retrieving a squat bottle, its contents clear as water, from a hidden cabinet under his desk. Two shot glasses appear as if by magic. "Schnapps. The drink of choice for Jewish grandfathers everywhere."

"That would be ... Max?"

"Max," James confirms. "You met him at Nathan's bar mitzvah."

House furrows his brow, remembering. "He was the one doing card tricks and hitting on the caterer's waitresses."

James makes a sound halfway between a snort and a laugh. "That would be Max." He uncorks the bottle and pours a couple of healthy shots into the small glasses. "He was quite the wanderer in his day."

House doesn't say anything; even though he's met most of the Wilson clan, it's rare for Jimmy to tell any family stories.

"When he was seventeen, he ran away from home," James says. His eyes are fixed on the shot glass in front of him. "Wound up in Montana, of all places." He laughs softly and shakes his head. "Pretty amazing he got that far. Problem was, he couldn't decide what to do next. He could go further west, or he could go east, towards home."

House watches as James touches the side of the shot glass but doesn't lift it. "So he flipped a coin -- one of those big silver dollars they had back then, with the milled edges -- and went home."

The only sound in the room is the ambient noise from the hallway, muffled by the closed office door.

"I liked him," House murmurs.

"Everyone does."

They each raise a glass.

 _"L'shanah tovah,"_ James says. The customary wish in Hebrew for a good year.

House nods. _"Gut yontif,"_ he replies, and notices for the first time that the traditional Yiddish response doesn't address the _year_ at all. _A good holy day,_ as if a whole year were too much to wish for.

His leg twitches.

Both men swallow, the fiery liquid burning their throats. House's eyes meet James's above the rim of the glass. For the briefest of moments, he allows himself to hope. A good year.

  
~fin


End file.
